Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Botswana and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Joy Division to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bronski Beat,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Simply Red,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fat Boys,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mad Mike,
Bobby Sherman,
Robert Wyatt,
Sam Rivers,
The Sonics,
Maleditus Sound,
Ronan,
Arcadia,
Alton Ellis,
The Mummies,
Quando Quango,
Maurizio,
Gang Gang Dance,
Blake Baxter,
Malaria!,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jawbox,
Gerry Rafferty,
Silicon Teens,
Lightning Bolt,
Hoover,
The Raincoats,
The United States of America,
Flash Fearless,
Motorama,
The Zeros,
Agitation Free,
The Velvet Underground,
The Fuzztones,
Jerry's Kids,
Shuggie Otis,
Toni Rubio,
Buzzcocks,
Model 500,
Lungfish,
Black Sheep,
China Crisis,
Sparks,
Robert Görl,
The Happenings,
The New Christs,
Skarface,
Nils Olav,
The Smoke,
Lee Hazlewood,
48th St. Collective,
Matthew Halsall,
The J.B.'s,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Standells,
Wasted Youth,
Visage,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Buckinghams,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.